It is a strange facet of British culture that the organisation dedicated to mapping the nation has its origins in the Armed Forces. If one were to suggest a society in which cartographers and soldiers were one and the same, it would sound somewhat implausible. Yet, even if this was not strictly the case, the Ordnance Survey had its origins after the Jacobite Rebellion of 1745 revealed a need for accurate maps of the nation: the mountains of Scotland being difficult enough to shift troops, supplies and artillery pieces around even if you know where to go. Naturally, any modern army will understand the importance of maps and information, but to have the two functions so closely linked is odd in a modern, civilian existence.
Indeed, the dearth of available information is fascinating to consider in the Twenty-First century; to digress briefly, it is the sort of thing that ought to be really hammered home in schools as the century develops, to think of a world where information was difficult to find and frequently inaccurate. Or the sheer difficulty of collecting information.
Not that any of this is my own work; deriving from my reading of Rachel Hewitt's Map of a Nation: A Biography of the Ordnance Survey (Granta, 2010). The start of it is deep in the Enlightenment 'everything can be measured' approach to things, though the uses of theodolite and measuring chain required more field work than the usual image of laboratory or drawing-room bound 18th Century Science. Measuring across vast distances, with The elements and distance were not the only threats: strange folk coming to survey one's land were not considered popular (an anecdote is given of a French surveyor being killed). In the paranoid times of 1798, when French invasion was predicted around the corner, surveyors could find themselves accused of being spies.
Local pride gave map-making a different air in Wales; the importance of getting place names correct was something that could draw venom from local dignitaries and commentators. Ireland was, if anything, more fraught; the survey was part of a re-assessment of tax boundaries (with some districts paying ten times that of others). The survey was initially staffed purely by British soldiers, as a measure against convenient errors; Irish labourers would eventually be hired, as would a team of Irish Catholics specifically required to work on place names - seeking to untangle the Irish name from any later English corruption. Naturally, the survey was not altogether popular; no serious violence is recorded, but much low-level disruption. It was even the subject of a play in 1980, Boundaries - though this piece of drama is little concerned with accuracy.
The great charting of the British isles was a long process - the final piece of the map would be published in 1870 - by which time, of course, the Industrial Revolution had wrought great changes, especially in a city like Birmingham. These maps were never altogether accessible to the general public (the first map made available to the general public cost several weeks wages for a skilled labourer). The Romantic movement would crop up to comment on the division of the countryside by the survey; Wordsworth and Blake both commenting negatively on this manifestation of the Enlightenment. Blake's image of Urizen in The Ancient of Days bears the tools of geometry and called out members of the survey in his Discourses. Worsdworth's own wanderings in the Lake District could be copied by tourists with new maps.
This has some applicability to the tabletop. The notion of the survey, taking delicate equipment into desolate places - assailed by the elements or the locals - seems an excellent starting point for a campaign. Careful calculations on top of mountains has something of a magical bent to it; reaching out across the wilderness to connect peoples together. I have been considering elements of a Enlightenment set or inspired campaign for a while and this seems an excellent inspiration and a interesting historical work.
Six Interesting (and possibly Neglected) Entries
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Wednesday, 16 August 2017
Monday, 7 August 2017
Twelve Grave Guardians
I might have been absent for a while, but I have not been altogether idle. A visit to The British Museum helped produce the following list of funerary charms designed to thwart necromancers. If, for whatever reason, you attempt to raise a spirit from the dead, these items will attempt to stop you. Some could only be found on a corpse that has been specifically prepared for burial; others could easily be among the possessions of a fallen soldier on the battlefield.
(If you think Twelve Grave Guardians sounds like an order of terribly serious divine warriors, you are not entirely alone).
1. Upon tampering with the corpse, five mastiffs appear within five feet of the body. They will prioritise attacking the source of the magic that conjured them, but may attack others. The mastiffs are highly motivated to defend their owner, but are otherwise just mastiffs. Upon defeating them, you can find five terracotta statues of dogs painted in crude colours among the grave goods. They are not terribly valuable.
2. Upon tampering with the corpse, the coffin or shroud in which it has been encased resists the necromancer's spells. The item enclosing the body has been prepared cannot attack, but will further resist any attempts to remove it. It must first be subdued before removal. Upon defeating it, you are in possession of a second-hand anti-necromancer device that must be restored before re-use. It is only potentially valuable, and certainly encumbering.
3. Upon tampering with the corpse, an giant eagle with a collar and chain about it's neck will appear from the chest of the cadaver. It can attack, but will prefer to take up the body in its talons and fly away before the spirit can be thrust back into the flesh as one of the undead. If indoors or deep in a dungeon, bear in mind that this is no common giant eagle; it can phase through walls if necessary. However, catching hold of the chain will assist in subduing it. Upon defeating it, a battered enamel statue of an eagle with a chain may be found. It is not terribly valuable.
4. Upon tampering with the corpse, a large tortoise with a shell the colour of mahogany will appear, covering the body with its shell. No-one will rise from the grave with that beast sitting there. It can attack - but not for more than d6 damage. But it will resist most attempts to move it, or to penetrate the thick shell. Upon defeating it, you may find a tortoise statue of dark wood, no bigger than a human thumb joint. Unless you defeat it using fire, in which case you get ash - besides having a scorched corpse.
5. Upon tampering with the corpse, a child of indeterminate sex in a thick hooded robe and holding a lantern will appear. The child will first ask you to stop. If you do not, it will wail loudly, piteously and continuously. It may then attack you, either by blinding you with a sudden flare of light from the lantern or by casting bolts of fire from the same. Either way, someone else will probably come running in response to the noise. Upon defeating it, a brass lantern with a stub of candle can be found. The candle cannot be lit.
6. Upon tampering with the corpse, an imp or other minor diabolical creature appears and attacks the nearest target. The infernal realms have a policy of not letting other parties interfere with a soul that is firmly with in their grasp. You will be attacked even despite any allegiance you might have to such powers. Friendly fire is not unknown in the inferno. Upon defeating it, you will discover a copper plaque etched with demonic script - as well as perhaps a few tokens of traffic with dark powers.
7. Upon tampering with the corpse, a ghost will appear and attack you for up to twelve rounds. Upon defeating it, you will find an elaborate box with padded sections for twelve large coins. The number of coins found is equal to twelve minus the number of turns it took to defeat this spectral mercenary. The coins are not of any currency accepted as legal tender by earthly banks, though they may have value to some.
8. Upon tampering with the corpse, three arms holding three swords, jointed at the centre like a triskelion, appear and attack, making three attacks each turn. Upon defeating it, three swords will be found among the grave goods, joined by a chain. The swords will be too corroded or too ornamental to serve as a weapon.
9. Upon tampering with the corpse, a glowing sigil will appear upon it - a necromancer's hallmark. Another wizard has used this body before, or wishes to use it in the future. Out of professional courtesy, it will not attack you. But if you wish to continue to take mastery over this corpse, you must 'hack' through the hallmark, making several mind saves. Upon doing so, the corpse looses the glowing sigil (though a talented magician could detect what had been before). The owner of the hallmark may now be aware of what you have done, however.
10. Upon tampering with the corpse, a series of miniature statues holding images of the corpses entrails will attack you. These canopic sentries are effectively miniature golems. They carry no weapons except these images. Upon defeating them, you may find preserved entrails with in these statues.
From the Louvre; Charles IV, the Fair (d. 1328) and his wife Jeanne d'Evreux (d. 1371), each holding a bag containing their entrails. Think of something like this, but two feet tall. See also the burial of Richard the Lionheart for inspiration. |
12. Upon tampering with the corpse, it bursts into fierce flames. It was clearly buried with an Emergency Pyro-Purgative; the departed apparently of the belief that undesecrated ashes were better than a desecrated corpse. If you manage to remove the Pyro-Purgative before tampering, you are now in possession of a vial of a silvery liquid that ignites in the presence of necromantic spells.
The Blazing World's method for Rejuvenation
The Empress having thus declared her mind to the Ape-men, and
given them better Instructions then perhaps they expected, not knowing that her
Majesty had such great and able judgment in Natural Philosophy, had several
conferences with them concerning Chymical Preperations, which for brevities
sake, I'le forbear to reherse: Amongst the rest, she asked, how it came that
the Imperial Race appear'd so young, and yet was reported to have lived so
long; some of them two, some three, and some four hundred years? and whether it
was by Nature, or a special Divine blessing?
To which they answered, That there
was a certain Rock in the parts of that World, which contained the Golden
Sands, which Rock was hallow within, and did produce a Gum that was a hundred
years before it came to its full strength and perfection; this Gum, said they,
if it be held in a warm hand, will dissolve into an Oyl, the effects whereof
are following: It being given every day for some certain time, to an old
decayed man, in the bigness of a little Pea, will first make him spit for a
week, or more; after this, it will cause Vomits of Flegm; and after that it
will bring forth by vomits, humors of several colours; first of a pale yellow,
then of a deep yellow, then of a green, and lastly of a black colour; and each
of these humours have a several taste, some are fresh, some salt, some sower,
some bitter, and so forth; neither do all these Vomits make them sick, but they
come out on a sudden, and unawares, without any pain or trouble to the
patient: And after it hath done all these mentioned effects, and clear'd both
the Stomack and several other parts of the body, then it works upon the Brain,
and brings forth of the Nose such kinds of humors as it did out of the Mouth,
and much after the same manner; then it will purge by stool, then by urine,
then by sweat, and lastly by bleeding at the Nose, and the Emeroids; all which
effects it will perform within the space of six weeks, or a little more; for it
does not work very strongly, but gently, and by degrees: Lastly, when it has
done all this, it will make the body break out into a thick Scab, and cause
both Hair, Teeth, and Nails to come off; which scab being arrived to its full
maturity, opens first along the back, and comes off all in a piece like armour,
and all this is done within the space of four months.
After this the Patient is
wrapt into a Cere- cloth, prepared of certain Gums and Juices, wherein he
continues until the time of nine Months be expired from the first beginning of
the cure, which is the time of a Childs formation in the Womb. In the mean
while, his diet is nothing else but Eagles-eggs, and Hinds-milk; and after the
Cere-cloth is taken away, he will appear of the age of Twenty, both in shape,
and strength. The weaker sort of this Gum is soveraign in healing of wounds,
and curing of slight distempers. But this is also to be observed, that none of
the Imperial race does use any other drink but Lime-water, or water in
which Lime-stone is immerged; their meat is nothing else but Fowl of several
sorts, their recreations are many, but chiefly Hunting.
Margaret Cavendish's The Blazing World of 1666 announces the above method of immortality for its Emperors. The method has a certain 'Hard Science Fiction' quality to it - within a Seventeenth Century understanding of 'hardness'. It is time-consuming, messy, complex and difficult. Neither is it like a magical formula which is all those things and then suddenly produces the Philosopher's Stone (or similar) in a neat, easy-to-swallow bundle.
Why post this here? It has an eminent 'grit' to it, reminiscent of OSR elements. It has potential - for use as a lych alternative or for the messier kind of magic healing. Lamentations of the Flame Princess could probably swallow it whole. It fits with that kind of White Hot Sparks from the Crucible of the Enlightenment setting I should like to flesh out more thoroughly at some point.